52 days

I got an email this morning that my half marathon is in 52 days. I felt a little overwhelmed, perhaps a little nervous. I've had the flu for a few days and i hurt my hip on the plane home from New York.

I went to physio the other day and after some shaking and yanking and pushing and pulling everything felt back in line. Right. I walked out without a limp and the hint of a spring in my step. I went for an awesome run that evening (14k!) and felt great when shane picked me up.

It all kind of went downhill from there. After the short car ride home i went to get out of the car and kachump, my joint had slipped back into the very wrong place. I iced and i moaned. I hate being hurt, not in a wimpy way, but in a really grumpy way. I sent everyone to bed as they had all had the flu and i was on barf watch for the evening.

I started watching "She's Having A Baby" and feeling a little melancholy for those old days and how things aren't really as they are in movies or even as they seem. That rushing gurgling sound started up deep down inside me. That "oh no!" moment. That moment you know you and the toilet are going to become good friends over the next 24 hours.

So, now i'm a day and a half past that moment and starting to feel a little better. But, a little worse too. My hip (SI Joint) is definitely not right and i'm going to have to go back to physio and it's not looking like a quick fix thing.

I have 52 days to be healthy and ready and today i'm just angry at my body for not letting me do what i really want to do. I want to run. I want to run until i disappear. I want to run until i catch up with myself. I want to run until i collapse in your arms.